Debt, Lies and Desire

The Offer

ARYA'S POV

My pen froze.

For a moment I wondered if I had heard him wrong.

VANCE Industries was one of the largest corporations in the country.

They owned shipping lines, tech firms, luxury hotels, half the skyline practically had their logo somewhere on it.

Companies like that don’t call independent accountants working out of rented offices.

They hired massive firms with hundreds of employees, even thousands.

“I think you have the wrong number,” I said carefully.

“We most certainly do not.”

A brief pause.

Then the man added:

“Our CEO personally requested we contact you.”

My heart skipped.

“Requested… me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I asked, unsure.

“That,” he said, “is something Mr. Vance would prefer to discuss with you himself.”

I leaned back in my chair, suspicion prickling at the back of my neck.

This made no sense. Is this another scam?

“Who is this?” I asked.

“I’m his personal assistant.”

Another pause.

“Mr. Logan Vance would like to meet you tomorrow at nine a.m.”

Logan Vance.

Even I knew that name.

Billionaire.

CEO.

Media’s favorite “dangerous bachelor.”

And according to several business articles, a man who destroyed his competitors without blinking.

“What exactly does he want audited?” I asked.

“I’m afraid that information is confidential until you sign an NDA.”

Of course, it was.

I stared again at the debt total on my laptop.

Three hundred and eighty-four thousand dollars.

The words three days came ringing in my head.

“Where is the meeting?” I asked slowly.

“The VANCE headquarters.”

My stomach flipped.

The assistant gave the address and ended the call before I could ask anything else.

Silence returned to the office.

I sat there staring at the phone.

This had to be a prank.

A scam

Or a mistake.

Because there was absolutely no logical reason for a billionaire CEO to handpick me.

Unless… there was no unless, it just wasn’t possible.

I was only known by small companies, shops, small restaurants and struggling businesses.

I exhaled slowly and shut the laptop.

“Tomorrow morning.” I sighed.

Worst case scenario, it was nothing.

Best case scenario…

I might have just found the lifeline I desperately needed.

****

The next morning, I stood across the street from the towering glass building of VANCE Industries.

My palms were sweating. My knees are weak.

The place looked less like an office and more like a monument to money.

Polished marble.

Private security.

Luxury cars gliding into the underground parking lot like sharks into deep water.

I adjusted my blazer and walked inside.

The lobby alone was bigger than my entire office.

A receptionist directed me to the executive floor.

The elevator ride felt endless.

When the doors finally opened, a sharply dressed man was already waiting.

“You must be Miss Thorne,” he said with a faint smile. “Mr. Vance is expecting you.”

The whole thing felt like a dream.

He led me down a long corridor lined with glass walls and minimalist art.

We stopped at a pair of tall black doors.

The assistant knocked once before opening them.

“Mr. Vance,” he said, “Miss Thorne has arrived.”

I stepped inside.

The office was massive.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the entire city.

And standing beside the window was a man.

Tall.

Broad-shouldered.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit.

He turned slowly.

Sharp jaw.

Cold grey eyes.

This had to be Logan Vance. He looked way better than the photos of him I saw on the paper and on social media.

He looked at me intensely for a long moment.

Then he gestured toward the chair across his desk.

“Miss Thorne,” he said calmly.

His voice was even more intimidating in person.

“Please sit.”

I did.

Logan Vance remained standing.

Watching me.

Silent.

I tried to look as bold as I could.

Finally, he spoke.

“I know about your mother’s debt.”

The words disoriented me.

I shamefully choked on my saliva.

My blood ran cold.

“How?”

“And I know,” he continued smoothly, “that you have exactly three days before the men she borrowed from decide patience is no longer profitable.”

My hands tightened on the armrest.

“How do you know that?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he walked around the desk and leaned against it, arms folded.

Then he said the one sentence that made my heart stop.

“I can make that entire debt disappear, Arya.”

My throat went dry.

“What’s the catch?”

“There must be one.”

A slow smile touched his lips.

Dark.

Emotionless.

“Help me prove that my stepbrother has been stealing millions from my company…”

He paused.

“And pretend to be my fiancée while you do it.”